


I Am Number 39

by Cap_Soph606_iheartpudding



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: AU Fic, Details are in the notes at the beginning, M/M, Minor Character Death, This fic is based off an AU I made, introductions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18766003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Soph606_iheartpudding/pseuds/Cap_Soph606_iheartpudding
Summary: In a dystopian future where people live in the Citadel (a utopian city) are left without emotions, Ben (Number 39 in his society) is sent out to Outside where he’ll then meet Joe, one of the leaders of the society outside. This is the story of Ben’s conversion and relationship with Joe.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, it’s a dystopian future AU wherein people live in this paradisial city called the Citadel. There’s an established routine in this place, namely to eat, sleep and work depending on which Job they are Assigned by the Sovranty; rulers of the Citadel. People who live in the Citadel are called Residents. Residents are identified by number. The lower the Resident’s number, the older they are... in most cases. A special case wherein that may not apply is the death of a Resident. A new Resident takes their number. Another special case is if the Resident gets Assigned the same Job as one Resident before them.
> 
> For Residents, there are nine Jobs:  
> -Scientists= They are in charge of making scientific breakthroughs that shall further improve the quality of life in the Citadel.  
> -Matchmakers= They are in charge of Matching two Residents together. There is a criteria they go by, but I will not elaborate on that. I will however say that people in the same Job are rarely Matched together. Same goes with a pair of Residents with a huge age gap.  
> -Agriculturists= They are in charge of providing the Citadel with their Meals. They work with crops, fish and livestock.  
> -Deliverers= They are in charge of delivering Agriculturist-provided Meals to Residents.  
> -Builders= They are in charge of building Residencies; homes of Residents.  
> -Manufacturers= They are in charge of manufacturing devices and microchips.  
> -Nurses= They are in charge of caring for Newborns. They are also the ones who implant microchips into the babies. This procedure is noninvasive.  
> -Teachers= They are in charge of teaching Toddlers of two and Children of three to nine. Pre-adolescents of ten to twelve are trained by Heads of each Job (Head Nurses, Head Matchmakers, etc.), and Adolescents start their work at thirteen. Teachers are tasked to teach History, Language, Physical Education and Mathematics.
> 
> The final Job Assignment one could get is the Assignment of Sentinel.  
> There are two types of Sentinels (not counting the Head, of course):  
> -Inner Sentinels= They’re in charge of guarding the inner walls of the Citadel and detecting spies from Outside who may be in the Citadel to Abduct Residents.  
> -Active Sentinels= They’re proficient actors and spies who are in charge of informing the Sovranty of possible assassinations or attacks from Outsiders. Sometimes they can prevent Abductions, but most of the time they don’t in order to avoid getting caught. They are trained for longer and are given one year of rest to prepare for when they are sent to Outside.  
> Sentinels are not allowed to be Matched for maximum effieciency; Inner or Active whatsoever.  
> There are only two Active Sentinels to avoid suspicion.
> 
> The Youth (Toddlers, Children) are taught at the Academy at different Levels. The higher the Level, the older the Age Group.  
> At the age of seven, Children take the Placement Examination. This examination aids the Sovranty in deciding what the Child becomes after their Pre-adolescent stage.
> 
>  
> 
> Outsiders:
> 
> Outsiders are either people who were born of those who rejected the Forefathers’ offer during the Great War or Residents who were Abducted by well, Outsiders... or at least their Abductors.
> 
> So. Basic information.
> 
> Outsiders live in Outside, a land apart that of the Citadel’s. As established earlier, they are part of the human population that opposes the Sovranty’s rule. They give themselves human names, while Leaders give themselves pseudonyms (that they use only in times of Abductions, etc.) such as Love, Care and Loyalty as part of showing their opposition.  
> Abductions are exactly what their name tells them to be. Abductions. Abductions are hosted by Leaders and performed by Abductors; people who have been trained (such as Sentinels) to become part of the Citadel’s Residents and lead them out of the Citadel to bring them to Outside.  
> The Outsiders’ goal in their Abductions is to save the Residents from the rule of the Sovranty who suppress their emotions through the microchips just for maximum effieciency. Ambition has blinded the Sovranty’s minds, in turn harming those who live in the Citadel. Residents do not know how they are being abused by the Sovranty. They only know they live to serve and abide by the strict laws.  
> Residents who have been Abducted or Saved, however, suffer from traumas after realising their poor treatment under the reign of the Sovranty. They are helped by other members of the Outsiders.  
> Outsiders work traditional jobs (save Abductors) with what they have left. The City is now only a bunch of ruins, but they found a way to utilise those wreckages.  
> Outsiders choose their own spouses.  
> Outsiders, with the help of their own scientists, have discovered a way to destroy the microchips implanted into Residents’ bodies. Thus, the Serum was created.

Before the Citadel came into being, there was a war so great it tore apart each nation with the uncontrollable power of fear and pride. Countries big and small in size engaged in conflicts against one another; innocent souls of men, women and children claimed all too early as the violence that spread like a disease consumed the entire world. Thousands died everyday, and it seemed there would be no end to this war; a war greater and more dire than the first two... until the Forefathers came with their promise of a paradise for those who wished it.

 

Tired of the fighting and the unbearable pain, the people of the Old Earth accepted the Forefathers’ offer of Utopia. In exchange however of that great blessing, microchips were embedded in the people’s bodies - through a simple and noninvasive manoeuvre, really - and they, as promised, took away the pain of... everything. The remaining few; imbeciles, as I like to call them, refused and were forced to stay outside the Citadel. They now remain in Outside; nothing but an absolute wreckage of the world that used to be.

 

All that happened 263 years ago.

 

Now, we have a fully organised community with people (now known as Residents) who live in proper houses, have jobs just suited for them, Partners that match them perfectly and enough nutritious food and drink. Not forgetting, of course, the Academy where everyone has the opportunity to be educated formally.

 

Seriously, who wouldn’t want that?

 

The Youth can grow to become Scientists who make scientific breakthroughs that further improve the state of the Citadel. They can become Matchmakers in charge of Matching two Residents together. They can also become Agriculturists trained in the art of agriculture. Deliverers who deliver Morningand Evening Meals to their Assigned Residency, too. Or they could become Builders who build new Residencies. Manufacturers who craft devices and microchips, Nurses who care for the Newborns or -

 

“For the Job Assignment of Sentinel we have...” call the mighty members of the Sovranty in unison.

 

Yes, Sentinels.

 

Sentinels are the ones Assigned to protect Residents from threats to the community such as Abductors from Outside. Ever since the beginning of the Citadel, the Outsiders have been finding ways to take away what has been built by our Forefathers. Out of spite or out of jealousy, I don’t know, but what matters is that our Sentinels are there to protect us from those threats.

 

There are two types of Sentinels: Inner and Active. Inner Sentinels guard the Citadel from inside, doing their best to capture Abductors. Active Sentinels are sent to Outside where they discover the plans of the Outsiders and prevent attacks from occurring in the Citadel.

 

“Number 35, Inner. Number 24, Inner. Number 16, Active. Number 28, Inner. Number 30, Inner... and Number 39...”

 

I perk up when Number 39 is called, because that’s me.

 

I’m Number 39.

 

“Active Sentinel.”

 

Me, Number 39, Active Sentinel. It’s... amusing, actually. I know I did well during my Placement Examination, but I never expected this. I am but seven years old, and I know it’ll be many years before I’m finally sent to Outside, but the training will be a new experience.

 

I hardly blink as I stare ahead, everyone in the Atrium clapping their hands together in polite applause.

 

***

 

***20 years later, Year 283, the Citadel***

 

The bright rays of the morning sun is filtering through my white curtains as I wake up and check my bedside alarm clock. Printed digitally on its screen is ‘6.00 am’.

 

As punctual as always.

 

Sitting up in bed, I wait for -

 

 _Ding_ _dong!_

 

Never mind.

 

I pad my feet on the white-tiled floor for a moment before rushing to the lavatory to wash my face and tidy my hair. When I arrive, I splash some cold water onto my face then wipe it with a towel. After that, I look closely at myself in the mirror, grabbing a comb from atop the white sink and tidying my hair, styled in an undercut. I then study every feature, attempt to smile and to frown, furrow my brows, marvelling at how expressive my pale green eyes turn out to be. Perhaps that’s one reason why I was Assigned the Job Active Sentinel.

 

I didn’t honestly expect much when I was first called to be a Sentinel. I didn’t expect anything at all, actually. All I cared about was that I do my Job and I do it well. That’s what the Sovranty expects of us, and I believe that’s exactly what we were born to do. Serve the Sovranty. After all, they did save our lives from the harsh world of Outside.

 

Turns out, the training was more arduous than told to be. I, along with Number 16, was taught to be perceptive, to know how to act when appropriate. We were taught to express what they at the Training Centre called ‘emotions’. Emotions. What a waste of time. We were taught how to laugh and how to cry. To scream and to cower in fear. We were taught to analyse another’s emotions and sympathise with them. It was a drag, but that was what I needed to do.

 

For the sake of the Citadel.

 

Once I’ve made sure I look presentable, I proceed down the stairs carefully, holding the metal railing tightly in order to avoid slipping. The walls are hardly decorated; in fact, they’re as good as plain. The white of the concrete makes the whole place look almost blinding to the eyes, but that’s the standard set by the Sovranty, and it’s a standard the Builders must meet. The plainness of everything doesn’t bother me. All I really care about is that I have a home to live in just like the rest of the Residents in the Citadel. I doubt I’ll even have one where I’m going.

 

The pictures shown of Outside in my history holo-books and holo-pads depict a land of wreckages, bits of metal, concrete, and glass strewn about in an empty wasteland. It’s quite hard to believe it’s actually habitable there, but the Outsiders have found a way to survive, unfortunately, and that’s what’s important here.

 

The Outsiders are threats; constantly sneaking into the Citadel despite the efforts made by both the Inner and Active Sentinels to prevent them from doing so. They abduct our people, and who knows what happens to those they successfully do. They never come back.

 

Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, I open the door and see my Deliverer standing right before me; Number 23. I recognise Number 23 from my days in the Academy. I watched as he performed in the Placement Examination. The man was horrible at agriculture, crafting, physical activity and sciences, but he was pretty proficient in direction. It was only right he’d become a Deliverer.

 

I barely know him since we talk only little, but sometimes a small chat would be livening.

 

“Greetings, 39,” 23 tells me as he salutes. “Final day today?”

 

“Yeah. I’ll be going to Outside tomorrow,” I reply. “What’s today’s Morning Meal?”

 

“Cereal. I don’t know how it tastes, really, but I’ll find out soon enough.” He sets down his now-empty bag.

 

Trying to hold out the conversation a little longer, I ask “anything of interest happening today?”

 

“The only thing I know’s the public executing of Outsider Number 436. You’ll be watching it, of course. An alarm’s set for the event. First time watching?” 23 replies.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Strange.”

 

“True.”

 

“Third time for me. It’s quite an... intriguing experience. I won’t talk to you about it just for the sake of not spoiling the entire thing, but all I could say is you wouldn’t want to miss it.” He checks his watch, huffing. “Anyway, don’t wanna be late. Gotta go.”

 

I nod. “Won’t be seeing you again, 23.”

 

With a final salute, 23 slings his bag on his shoulders and heads to his bicycle. I don’t know to whom he will be Assigned to deliver next after I’m gone, but the Sovranty will no doubt have a plan for him. The Sovranty cares for their Residents, arranging everything from our Daily Meals to mangaging the entire Citadel, and all it asks in return is effieciency and loyalty. It’s not much to ask for, so we must be thankful.

 

Bringing the metal box to the dining table, my bare feet remain cold as they step on the frigid tile. Implanted on the wall facing the street are large windows that allow me to glance outside and see the Residencies - they all look the same - across mine. I will remember the sight of plain houses when I see the wreckage of Outside and maybe even long for it again, but this is my Job. This was what I was created to do.

 

When I sit down after grabbing my utensils, the alarm atop my television sounds. The execution 23 was talking about must be starting now. I wish to see the fruit of my Job, see what happens when I achieve, so I decide to watch.

 

“Television, on.”

 

In a flash the television comes to life. I’ve used it once before; it was nothing but a try at it. I remember tapping on the screen and searching for both a button and a remote but finding none. Then came the brilliant idea to consult my holo-pad. Apparently, all I needed to do was say ‘television on’. I merely shrugged off the matter afterwards.

 

What, or rather who, appears on the television is nobody I recognise. It was earlier in the week when O436 - who is dressed as one of us - was caught in the act of an Abduction. No one knows whether O436 was acting alone, and while I think it’s about time the Sovranty put an end to that problem, I believe they have a plan, as they always do.

 

O436’s complexion comprises of a stubbed nose, dark brown eyes, pale skin and blond hair. O436 is a male, and he wears an expression I identify as indignation. What I don’t understand is why he believes he has a reason to be indignant. He’s the one committing the crime here. Whatever he will say or do, he deserves the punishment he’s to receive. However, if the Sovranty’s merciful enough to give leniency to him and offer a chance to be part of the Community, then let it be so.

 

The members of the Sovranty start speaking in unison.

 

“Were you alone in committing this offence against the Residents of the Citadel?” they ask.

 

“If you think I’m going to answer that, you’re gravely mistaken,” O436 replies. The audacity, I think, stopping mid-chew.

 

I continue to eat, although I register how I nearly drop my spoon onto the table due to how much my focus is being driven into the spectacle happening before me. “You must answer, otherwise no mercy shall be given,” the Sovranty says meanwhile.

 

“I don’t need your mercy,” O436 spits out, nostrils flaring as his face grows a brighter red. “You keep these poor people confined in this - this hellhole, and all you care about is progress when what should matter are their lives! You only want power when you have enough, and now you’re torturing these poor people for your benefit! I don’t need your mercy, and if you’re gonna kill me, that’s alright. I did my job, and I did it for the sake of what’s right.”

 

The Sovranty remains quiet for a short while before one woman speaks up from the row, saying “is that all you shall say, O436?”

 

“The name’s Devotion,” O436 says. “But all I wish to say now is goodbye... to my wife, Joy, and my son, Joseph.”

 

“Very well,” says the woman once more. “Bring in Doctor 54.”

 

An elderly man wearing a full white attire emerges from the doorway. The Sovranty’s centre is connected to one of the Hospitals in the Citadel for the members of the Sovranty’s easy access to healthcare lest one of them need it. Elder Doctors are in charge of caring for the Sovranty’s members; they have been in the industry for years by then and are specialists, so they offer only the best services. He walks in front of the row of seats where the members of the Sovranty are seated then takes a bow.

 

The Sovranty nods in acknowledgment of his greeting.

 

After the men and women of the Sovranty recognise him, 54 walks to the centre of the Atrium, bringing along with him a white suitcase. It’s a mystery to me; what’s inside the suitcase, but I’ll find out soon enough. After all, 54’s already made his way to O436’s side.

 

54 opens the suitcase and therefore reveals a small syringe and a set of phials. The phials are filled with a strange, clear liquid, and I realise what the Doctor’s intent is: he’s going to administer into O436 a lethal poison.

 

54 opens one of the phials and dips the needle into it, pushing the plunger. The barrel is filled with poison, and 54 recaps the phial and returns it into the suitcase.

 

O436 makes yet another show of bravery by staring at Death right in the face: as the needle of the poison-filled syringe is inserted into the skin of his arm, he looks at it intently, never blinking. Whatever belief the Outsiders have, it seems almost cult-like; the way they would sacrifice their lives for a belief that isn’t even remotely true.

 

O436 says nothing to calm him; in fact, he looks pretty serene now. It’s almost as if he isn’t about to die.

 

Nothing seems to be happening for a matter of minutes until suddenly O436 starts scratching at where the needle was inserted into him, the skin of his arm growing red with his efforts. The redness then spreads to the rest of his skin; to his face, his hands, wherever visible. There’s no doubt it has also spread to his legs and his arms, and even his bare feet have turned red.

 

After a while, O436 loses consciousness, his head dropping, his chin touching his chest. He would have collapsed were it not for the restraints that clasp his hands to the chair’s arms and legs to the chair’s, well... legs.

 

“Has he perished?” asks one man from the Sovranty.

 

54 places his stethoscope to the O436’s chest, to the left of his head where his heart lies. 54 says nothing; just raises a hand, implying that no, O436 is still breathing.

 

A minute or two passes, then 54 puts down his hand.

 

O436 is dead.

 

Everyone in the Atrium claps their hands together, then the television is switched off, indicating the end of the event.

 

I hardly bat an eye.

 

If I do my job well, there will be more to execute and less Outsiders to trouble us, so as I finish my cereal, I prepare myself for my Sending Out tomorrow; an unimposing ceremony but a great one nonetheless, readying myself for what’s to come.

 

***

 

“You are about to be Sent Out,” Head Sentinel 74 - a middle-aged man with whitened hair on the sides of his scalp and beard - says. “Remember, you’re not doing this for glory nor for the esteem of the Residents, but rather for their safety and the Sovranty’s.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

 

“You’re not being Sent Out to become one of them and if you ever betray us, we have the right to execute you. Understood?”

 

“Understood, sir.”

 

It’s now the day, but it feels like any other. I had no time for a Morning Meal, for I was expected to be at the Training Centre before the sun rose. The alarm came in handy. I woke up at 3 o’clock.

 

I wore my shoes and took my bike and cycled on through the dimly lit streets of the Citadel, the white of my clothes glaring under the streetlights. My Residence was built to be near the Training Centre for my convenience, so the journey wasn’t long. I arrived after 5 minutes.

 

I spent most of my day yesterday at the built-in gymnasium in my Residence, training. There wasn’t much to do, truthfully, and it was better I use my time for something productive than laze around. That wasn’t what I was trained to do. I was trained to strain myself; go past my limits for service to the Sovranty and the Residents of the Citadel. I was trained to maim, to kill, to prevent Abductions. I was trained to sacrifice my freedom, my everything for the sake of the greater good.

 

When I arrived at the Training Centre, the Head Sentinel was at the gates. I greeted him with a salute as is proper before parking my bicycle where it belongs. It will be disposed of; thrown to Outside, but I can’t bring myself to care. I was then brought to the gates of the Citadel; large barriers of a thick, unbreakable glass, and that’s when I first caught sight of Outside.

 

As pictures shown me, Outside was nothing but a land of wreckages and death. Giant remains of tanks and buildings protruded from the ground, and although it seems empty, I know the City where the Outsiders life must be way farther beyond the borders of the Citadel. I still don’t see how anyone can survive this environment, however.

 

“The Outsiders’ City is farther north from here. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to provide you with transportation past the borders of the Citadel for fear of detection, but I promise you the journey won’t be long. Now, come. If you’re to appear as if you’ve escaped this place, you need to look roughed up.”

 

Head Sentinel 74 smears mud on my face, hands, shoes, clothes and hair, messing it up. I look positively haggard afterwards, but that’s all part of the job. It’s dirty work, figuratively and literally, and it’s my mission in life.

 

“You be careful,” Head Sentinel 74 tells me. “We don’t wanna hear you’ve been caught few months into the job.” He hands me a transmitter. “This is for when we contact you, or when you need to contact us.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“When we contact you, it will buzz. Best you go somewhere private so nobody notices you.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping the transmitter in my pocket. It’s no bigger than my palm and can fit in anywhere easily.

 

“The others have gone and we presume they’ve been killed by the Leaders. They’re savages, and we don’t know how they handle things there, so do your best not to get caught. We’re all counting on you, Sentinel 39. The fate of the Residents and the Sovranty rests in your hands.”

 

“Understood, sir,” I say, saluting.

 

“Now, let’s move while the day’s still young.”

 

We board a hovercraft and rapidly move away from the gates noiselessly. I sit down and buckle up as Head Sentinel 74 stands near the front, gripping the handle and steering us away from the Citadel. I’ll never be seeing it again, but I feel nothing. I’ve been trained in the art of imitating emotions, but I never felt them.

 

The sun is still down, and there’s nothing to be seen save for the path illuminated by the lights of the hovercraft. The land is parched and cracked, nothing able to grow from the dead soil. However, as we travel further away, the soil appears richer, spots of grass growing from the ground. I remain vigilant all throughout the trip, just in case there are Outsiders lurking about, suspecting.

 

Soon, I see a yellow, glowing light in the distance. That must be the Outsiders’ City Centre.

 

“Is that truly...?” I ask.

 

“Your intuition has not failed you yet, Sentinel 39. Indeed, that’s the City Centre. It’s much like our District 1, but... primitive. If you gain the favour of at least one of the Leaders, you’ll be able to live there. I suggest that you do. From what I’ve heard, the outer parts of the City are nasty places. Just nasty.” He sniffs. “Anyway, this is where we say goodbye.”

 

I unbuckle my seatbelt and salute. “It was an honour training with you, sir,” I say.

 

Head Sentinel 74 merely nods. Then he tells me to go, turning the hovercraft around and zooming away from where I stand.

 

That’s when I start running.

 

It’ll be soon when I’ll need to get my act together; to fool the Outsiders into thinking I have escaped the Citadel, but for now... it’s time to keep going.

 

For the Sovranty.

 

***

 

“Help!” I cry out as I near the Outskirts of the City. More mud smears my white shoes (which are now battered due to the long run) as I run upon grass and soil. I sound absolutely terrified, and I can see from the corners of my eyes how lights are lit and people are awakened by my shouting. I mind them not as I proceed to the City Centre, hoping to get the attention of one of the Leaders there.

 

As I rush across muddy roads, more people are roused from their slumber, and I see children and elders alike, looking at me with horror plain on their faces. “Help!” I continue to shout, and I can hear murmurs from the crowd that begins to follow me as I carry on to the centre.

 

“Someone help that poor man,” I hear a woman say.

 

The lights grow brighter as I near the Centre, and suddenly I bump into someone, ultimately stopping my run. The person falls down when I do, but they rise quickly as I pretend to be dazed.

 

“Hey, are you alright?” the person asks. Male. Fairly young.

 

“Where am I? Where the hell am I?” I ask, the panic a part of my act.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” the man tells me. “You’re Outside now. You’re saved. Now let me help you up.”

 

He grabs my arm gently and pulls me up as carefully as he can. “Who are you?” he asks me quietly. I’m aware of the spectacle I’ve created as well as the huge crowd of people gathered around us, but all I care about’s the man who helped me up. Is he a Leader?

 

“I - I - I don’t know,” I reply.

 

“You’re from the Citadel?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh. What was your Number, then?”

 

“39.”

 

The man pauses in his steps, and he looks at me. His hazel eyes seem to gleam with something even I can’t put a name to, but it lasts all but a while. I just notice then how I’m an inch taller than him, but I decide that information is useless.

 

“Well, we can’t have that here,” the man says, smiling. “You’re now Ben. And now that you’ve got a name, it’s time to introduce myself. My name’s Joseph, but you can call me Joe. Another name of mine’s Love, and that’s because I’m a Leader of this place. You’ll love it here, I’ll promise you that, but first, it’s time to get you cleaned up. Come with me.”

 

As I’m brought to who-knows-where, I formulate a plan to befriend this ‘Joe’. Maybe he’ll be my key to knowing every plan they’ve made. Maybe he’ll be the one to bring me victory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Joe get to know each other a bit. Two of Joe’s friends make their appearance, and Ben learns a few things about them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the terribly long wait, guys! Definitely didn’t intend to make you guys wait for such a time, but there were some reasons why I couldn’t post this chapter immediately. Anyway, sorry again and have a nice time reading! Hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

“Well,” Joe says, his hands on his hips. He sighs. “It seems you won’t be having a home of your own for a few weeks. The builders are still trying their best to find adequate materials. Weird. I thought they’d have many here. Anyway, looks like you’re gonna have to lodge in with me for a while. That fine with you?”

 

Much better to be closer to a source. That way, I have easy access; to eavesdrop or no. “Yeah, sure. Thanks,” I say, smiling gratefully. Again, all part of the act. I must say the different patchwork of colours on me is a new thing I still need to adjust to, but adaptability is part of the job requirements.

 

“Now don’t think this is all for free,” Joe tells me, his tone grave, but I could tell he was teasing me by the slight grin that tilts the corners of his lips. “You - “ he leans closer “ - still gotta tell me everything... about... yourself.”

 

Is Joe always like this? If I must endure this for the next couple of weeks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.

 

I feign tiredness. “Can that wait till tomorrow?” I ask, tone polite, of course. Can’t have myself being drawn away from an excellent opportunity now, can I?

 

Joe flushes red. “Of course, of course. What was I thinking? Come, now. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

 

We make our way through dimly-lit streets (they use the old streetlights we’ve thrown out of the Citadel) and I see children peeking at us through windows that are surprisingly clean. The ground beneath me is a mix of grass and shrapnel, but what’s strange is that the grass is incredibly green... even if they’re only patches. The earth out here is healing, and it’s understandable. After all, it’s been 283 years.

 

Joe waves them a ‘hello’, and they excitedly wave back before adults tell them to go back to bed.

 

Joe chuckles. “These kids... no wonder why their parents seem so tired sometimes.”

 

“‘Parents’?” I ask. I’ve never heard of that term since I began my training when I was thirteen years old.

 

Joe doesn’t seem surprised. “Parents are people who take care of children here. You acknowledge them as Guardians, right?”

 

Ah, I see.

 

“Yeah. I think I get it now.”

 

“You learn quickly, I think. You were, what, a Scientist when you still lived in the Citadel? You seem like a pretty analytical guy to me. Tell me I’m right,” Joe says, smiling. It’s not a knowing smile, but rather yet another teasing one. This man is an enigma to me, although I must admit his heart-shaped smile is... an interesting thing to see.

 

“Yeah, I was,” I lie easily. Joe’s eyes widen.

 

“Oh wow, I’m actually right! Now that’s one thing I know about you,” he says, winking at me.

 

“Is this going to be a fishing expedition?” I ask, squinting my eyes.

 

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I was just asking a simple question,” Joe says giving me the side-eye. “Anyway, I’m willing to wait for tomorrow if you’re already that tired. But I do wanna know some things, if that’s okay with you.”

 

“You can ask me anything, but tomorrow. Just. Tomorrow.”

 

“Sure thing, Ben. The name’s alright with you?”

 

That’s another thing to adjust to, but I guess it’s alright with me. There’s nothing offensive about it, and the way he says it with such tenderness is quite alluring.

 

“Yeah. What’s it mean, though?”

 

“I don’t know, actually, but it’s short for Benjamin. What do you prefer? Ben or Benjamin?”

 

“Ben’s fine, thanks.”

 

“Oooh, good. Making it easier for me, then,” Joe laughs.

 

“I’m not!” I cry with mock-indignance (which seems real).

 

Some in-house lights are still on, and I can see some Outsiders reading books on worn-out couches as they drink water from pitchers we’ve used before.

 

“Books? I thought those would be extinct?” I ask.

 

Joe shrugs. “Some areas were untouched by the war, unlike what your History teachers taught you. It just takes time to explore this new world, wrecked and healing as it is. It’s refreshing to start anew, you know?”

 

Then why bother us? Why be such a nuisance when you can be somewhere else? Why allow your people to be executed when you can keep everyone alive by staying far away from us?

 

“It is,” I say.

 

“Oop, here we are. Home sweet home,” Joe says, directing me into a large building where one side has collapsed. Moss and ivy grow on the other sides, and the windows have shattered. A little more and it would’ve appeared as if it were leaning to the viewer’s eyes. “Now, okay, it might not be as nice as the Residences you’ve got in the Citadel, but it’s one of the best we’ve got. We gotta make do, sometimes.”

 

How would Joe know how Residences are like? Who is he, really? I ask him the former.

 

“Meetings with other Leaders who’ve commenced Abductions. They’ve lived in some Residences for at least a short while. They’ve shared their experiences with me. No big deal,” Joe answers nonchalantly, as if he’s been asked that question many times before.

 

“I think I’d also like to know about you. It’s not fair that you get to know everything about me when I can’t get to know you at all,” I say.

 

“Deal,” Joe says. He huffs as he grabs a mattress from the corner of the building and lays it out on the floor. Then, he opens a locker and takes out some spare pillows and a blanket, putting them all on the mattress. Is all this sanitary?

 

_Suck_ _it_ _up_ _and_ _deal_ _with_ _it,_ _39_.

 

“Thanks so much for this, Joe,” I say instead.

 

“Hey, it’s no problem. You still owe me that information, though.”

 

“Where’d you get the mattress, pillows and blanket from?” I ask. I suppose anyone would ask that question, right?

 

“Oh, from the garbage dump,” Joe says, features contorted into one of seriousness. I widen my eyes just for show. I pretend to turn around, the cool night breeze blowing at me. The baggy sleeves of my ragged (literally) clothes are astoundingly effective against the cold.

 

“Oh no! No, Ben! Just kidding. Heck, man. Come back here.”

 

I pause in my steps but I don’t turn around.

 

“Other people stayed here before you, but that was during the time of the previous Leader. The locker was kept clean as well as its contents, so you have nothing to worry about.” He pouts. “I’m sorry for turning that into a joke.”

 

The sincerity in his tone helps me deem him worthy of my attention again. I turn around to face him. The tension in his shoulders disappears, and through that motion I know he’s relieved.

 

“That’s alright,” I say peaceably. “Although it’s really a relief to hear you were just kidding.”

 

“I sometimes go too far, and I’m sorry if you gotta endure that for the next couple of weeks.”

 

“And here I thought I’d be stuck with someone humourless,” I say, rolling my eyes. I, myself, have been taught in the art of humour, and although I’m not the best at it... I - erm - try.

 

Joe chuckles. “And he jokes!” he exclaims. “Anyway, just tell me when I go too far.”

 

“Sure, Joe.”

 

Joe gives me the brightest of smiles, exceptionally white teeth showing brilliantly, then says “I’m just upstairs if you need me. There are stairs behind those doors.”

 

Joe points to a pair of rusted doors that appear to be almost unhinged. “Luxurious, isn’t it?” he asks drily. “Anyhoo, yeah. The lavatory’s just one floor up, and before you ask, no, we’re not sharing bathrooms. I’m staying two floors up with an individual bathroom of mine while you’re getting the larger one. Lucky you.”

 

“Yup. Got it.”

 

“Any more questions? I’m beat, if I gotta admit, but I’m not gonna sleep yet if you still wanna ask me something.”

 

“Nope. None at all,” I reply.

 

Joe claps his hands together once. “Welp! Time to call it a day, then. See you tomorrow, Ben.”

 

“See you, Joe.”

 

Joe gives me a salute, oddly - and suspiciously - similar to the salutes we Sentinels exchange as form of greeting. But no, that’s just nonsense, isn’t it? Joe couldn’t possibly know about it, could he?

 

Before I could give myself a headache, I drop the matter and check my pockets for the tiny transmitter Head Sentinel 74 gave me. My palm comes in contact with a small, rectangular and solid object and I take it out.

 

It’s the transmitter.

 

The small bulb at the corner is currently off, and I decide to wait until next morning, refusing to fall asleep just yet. What if the Outsiders convene tonight, when the Citadel’s Residents are yet asleep? What if they begin to plot, and I’m not there to hear it? What if they engage in an Abduction, and I’m not there to report to the Head Sentinel?

 

I would fail my Job, and that’s the worst possible betrayal I could ever commit.

 

No. I will not sleep. Not tonight.

 

I end up sitting on the mattress the whole night, fingers toying with the transmitter.

 

***

 

The sun slowly rises, and I get the full view of the spectacle from where I’m seated, for it rises at the side where the wall has collapsed. There’s nothing special about it; it’s nothing but a normal sunrise, so I merely stare at the extravaganza blankly.

 

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the haze. “The sunrise is beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

I turn around to see Joe leaning on the wall, arms crossed. His hair is neat, and I presume he’s combed it before he proceeded downstairs.

 

I feign a calmness, sighing wistfully. “You got that right,” I say.

 

Joe smiles. “You’re up early.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Why so?”

 

“I guess I couldn’t sleep. New environment and all that.”

 

“Yeah, must be difficult.” A pause. “You okay with leaving now? I mean, we’re not going anywhere else, but I was thinking we talk over some cups of coffee. After all, there was a deal, wasn’t there?”

 

“Oh yeah. Almost forgot.” I say, nibbling my lip just a bit. It’s been a habit of mine since I was young, and though I’ve done my best to hide it from the Head Sentinel during Training Periods, I’ve almost never been successful under Head Sentinel 74’s watchful gaze. “Is breakfast gonna be ready by the time we get up?”

 

“Don’t worry; someone’s gonna bring us some bread. If we’re lucky, we’ll have some butter with us, but let’s not count on it, shall we? Let’s go up; come on.”

 

I follow Joe up the stairs and stay behind him as he pushes two red-coloured metal doors. What greets me next is a sight intriguing.

 

His room’s walls are decorated with artworks of paint and marker. There are mixtures of red and green, yellow and purple, and blue and orange everywhere, and they all seem to depict certain images.

 

“What is all this?” I ask. I’m not curious, but it’s an interesting sight that’s worthy of an ask.

 

“The artworks?” Joe asks. When I nod seemingly dumbfoundedly, he says “I write plays sometimes. These artworks are what you’d call ‘posters’ of the plays I’ve written. Most of them are minor projects; old plays I’ve recreated, but the one I’m most proud of is the play depicted by the center artwork.”

 

“Yeah? What’s it called, then? The play, I mean.”

 

“It’s... still a work in progress. The only reason why there’s an ajrtwork of it now is because I was too excited to get it off the ground. That’s just the depiction of my first idea.”

 

“Still wanna hear about it.”

 

“Fine, fine. It’s called ‘Undrafted’.” Joe’s permanent smile grows ever wider as he says the final word. “I’m still working on the whole thing, but I can’t wait to finish it.”

 

“Sounds interesting... but what’s a ‘play’?”

 

Joe turns around to look at me incredulously. Then he seems to realise something. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” He chuckles nervously. “A play is a form of entertainment around here. Entertainment is something that gives us joy or envokes the emotions in us. You’d love to watch a play sometime. Trust me. Especially if it’s by Rami.”

 

Rami? Who is this ‘Rami’?

 

As if he read my mind, Joe says “Rami is the best playwright in these parts. You’d absolutely love him and his work. Spectacular. Just incredible. Anyway, let’s get started?”

 

There’s a pot of coffee and two glasses already waiting for us on a small table. Apparently, we’re going to be sitting on the concrete floor, but there’s no problem with that. None at all.

 

As I sit down, someone from outside calls out “Joe! Breakfast!”

 

Joe perks up at the sound and rushes to the edge of the floor, peeking down. “Hey, Diana!” he exclaims in answer. “Whatcha got there?”

 

“Just the usual!” Diana shouts from below. “Got extra for the newcomer, too!”

 

“Sure thing! I’ll get it!” Joe yells. He then turns to me saying “wait here.”

 

He’s gone in a flash.

 

I stay seated for a while before I end up peeking down from where Joe stood a while ago. For being off the ground by three floors, we are not incredibly high up. It’s no wonder how Joe and Diana could still hear each other despite being a distance away.

 

I see Joe taking a tray from Diana, a woman whose blond hair has started turning white, and gifting her with a kiss on the cheek before she waves him goodbye as he turns around with the tray in his hands. She walks away as he enters this building, and then I can hear Joe’s footsteps as he starts climbing the stairs, humming a small tune.

 

I rush back and sit once again before Joe opens the doors with his foot and places the tray on the small table.

 

“Freshly baked,” Joe says, grinning. He sits across me and pours some coffee into our glasses before saying “now. To business.” He says it with an air of seriousness that is not to be taken lightly.

 

I’m not intimidated. There’s no possibility I could be.

 

“You were Number 39 as a Resident in the Citadel as well as a Scientist,” Joe says, beginning what seems to be an interrogation. “Who raised you?”

 

“Numbers 12 and 14,” I say truthfully. That’s harmless information; nothing to do with my mission, so I tell him that. “You?”

 

“You’ve met one. I don’t know about the other,” Joe says.

 

Now that’s just unfair.

 

“Their names, please. I gave you the names of mine,” I say firmly.

 

“Diana is the name of my mother and Joseph was the name of my father. Your Guardians’ Job Assignments?”

 

“Both Nurses. They were an unusual couple in the Community. Yours?”

 

“Mom was a doctor, now retired, and Dad was a Leader. His other name was Devotion. He was recently executed.”

 

Devotion was O436.

 

“I’m sorry,” I say, albeit lacking in sincerity. I feel nothing at all. No sympathy; none.

 

Joe remains silent for a while, but he presses on with the questioning anyway. “We both know our occupations; or, at least, your former occupation, but I think you’d still be a scientist even here. We could use those skills of yours. But moving on. Background?”

 

“I was raised just like any other Child in the Citadel. I attended classes in the Academy starting at the age of 2 and took the Placement Examination at the age of 7. I was then Trained by Head Scientist 57 and released into the field until my microchip was eventually destroyed after ingesting one of my scientific experiments gone wrong. I ran away and met you. That’s all. Now, your turn.”

 

“I was born and raised here in Outside. I was homeschooled by my father and was subsequently trained to be a Leader of this place. I wasn’t born a Leader at all; it took years for me to actually get a grip on the thing. Anyway, I won’t reveal much about my past. That’s far too personal for now, but I promise you I’ll tell you everything. Just give it more time.”

 

I don’t honestly understand why he shouldn’t say anything about it. The past is the past, and it’s best to just forget it than to take it to heart. Doing the latter just decreases your efficiency, and don’t get me started on sentiment. Privacy is another matter entirely. I value my privacy, but by telling Joe my ‘past’ should be enough for him to do the same.

 

Joe’s next question snaps me out of my daze. “What do you expect from this community?”

 

What do I expect? Well. I expect a club of savages; people with no morals whatsoever. They’ve tormented the Residents of the Citadel with their Abductions, and they deserve no forgiveness at all. They should be grateful the Sovranty is willing to be lenient.

 

“I expect an inclusive society where people go out of their way to help one another. I expect a different lifestyle than that of the one in the Citadel,” I reply, however taking my ideal of a society from that of the Citadel’s. Over there in the Citadel, people of different colours and races are accepted and respected no matter what. Equality has been achieved, and we all share one culture; one history. What’s the point in ostracising anyone?

 

Joe nods. “And that’s what you’ll get here in the City. No matter what gender, colour, race, religion, culture and occupation, you’ll be treated evenly and respected equally. We don’t believe in exclusion. If that’s all you expect from this society, then you’ll be satisfied indeed. But now, the million-dollar question: what do you expect... of me?”

 

Joe is staring at me with such intensity it’s mystifying. It’s as if he’s gauging my reaction to the question. I place my hand against my chin as if in deep thought and rub it slightly for good measure. I don’t honestly know what to expect from this man. He doesn’t seem like a savage just yet, and although he was raised here, he seems to be like a perfect candidate for Residency. Save for his humour, of course.

 

“I expect you to be a good Leader to your people and a good individual in general. I expect you to lead firmly but justly, and be able to decide what’s best for those who look up to you.”

 

Joe is still staring at me intently. “Then I’ll make sure not to fail you.”

 

His chin propped up on his elbow which is planted firmly atop the tabletop, he looks at me with indecipherable emotion flashing in his eyes. I wish I could know what this mystery of a man is thinking, for he appears to be unpredictable, and unpredictability is a danger when it comes to an Outsider.

 

“Joe, bud! You up there?”

 

“Joe! Hello!”

 

The voices that cry out are of a man and a woman respectively. They both sound young, and that makes Joe rise up quickly, smiling. “Let’s go down,” he says, extending his hand towards me. I presume he’s going to help me up if I take it.

 

That’s when I realise we haven’t eaten breakfast nor drank our coffees.

 

“But what about breakfast?” I ask. To be honest, I am quite hungry, and a bit of bread and a sip of coffee would be excellent.

 

“Oh yeah,” Joe says. I think he’s also forgotten about breakfast until now. “Let’s just invite them upstairs, then we eat. No biggie.”

 

“‘Kay then.”

 

I take Joe’s hand, and he pulls me up. We make our way down the stairs, and when we finally exit the building, we are greeted by a sight of a couple whose hands are clasped tight together. The man is a bit tan-skinned just as the woman has pale skin. It’s hard to see what colour their eyes are, but that will be remedied soon, I’m sure. Black-haired and fairly short, the man is. Blond-haired and fairly tall is the woman. The man then runs up to Joe and pulls him into a one-armed hug as the woman watches with a fond smile on her face.

 

When the man pulls back, Joe says “Rami, Lucy, I’d like you to meet Ben. He’s new around here.”

 

Rami and Lucy look at me curiously but approach to engage in handshakes anyway. “Pleased to meet you, Ben,” they both say, one at a time.

 

“You guys don’t mind if we stay upstairs for a while, do you? ‘Cause we haven’t exactly eaten breakfast yet, and we’re really hungry,” Joe says.

 

“‘Course not. Come on,” Rami says, rejoining his hand with Lucy’s. It’s a curious gesture, one I’d like to find out the meaning of, and I walk alongside Joe as Rami and Lucy follow us going up.

 

“So, Ben, tell us about yourself,” Rami says.

 

“There’s nothing special about me,” I say. “But if you really wanna know, then I could say I was a Resident of the Citadel. Born and raised.”

 

Lucy hums. “And how was it like?”

 

“I’d... rather not talk about it.” Hell, I wasn’t ready for that. I could say it was a nice experience, of course, but that would give me no reason to run away... even if my microchip would’ve been destroyed. What could I possibly say? I hope that poor excuse of an answer is enough for her.

 

Lucy reaches out to squeeze my hand in what I perceive to be a reassuring gesture. “It’s alright,” she says. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Thank you,” I say. “But you two are...”

 

“Together?” Rami supplies. I nod once. “Yeah, we are.” He looks at Lucy with affection and kisses her once. “We’ve been for years now.”

 

Shamming utter wonderment and interest, I ask “how did it happen? How did you two first meet?”

 

“Eager to know, aren’t ya?” Rami asks teasingly. He clears his throat when my expression doesn’t change. “I’m a playwright, as Joe may have told you, and Lucy is an actress. She’s also a doctor. One time, I was looking for someone to star as the female lead in this romance, and well, I saw her. I was absolutely smitten with her - hey!” he exclaims as Lucy pinches him on the cheek. “Anyway, yeah. She was the perfect candidate. And oh. My. God. You should’ve seen the way she acted. She totally dominated that stage. It was as if it was her kingdom and she was the queen, y’know?”

 

“I was not,” Lucy sighs. “I guess I should tell the rest of the story myself... since everything he’s saying are biased exaggerations.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Anyway, he kept starring me in his plays... from small roles to all-out leads. But one day, he fell sick.”

 

“And you were there to care for him,” I say.

 

“Yes, you’re right.” Lucy smiles. “It was that night; he was laying on his bed, tossing and turning, when he asked me to marry him. I admit it wasn’t what I was expecting. Yes, we did grow close with all the acting and stuff, but that was entirely unexpected. I said ‘yes’ nonetheless. I really loved him, and I only love him more now.”

 

I place my hand against my chest to pretend as if I’ve been touched by their story. “That’s sweet,” I say.

 

“It really is, isn’t it?” Lucy asks, then it’s her turn to kiss Rami on the cheek.

 

“Okay, lovebirds, we’re here. Try to keep the PDA down, okay?” Joe teases.

 

“Oh, hush. You’re just jealous,” Rami teases in return, pulling Lucy closer to him.

 

Joe laughs. “Yeah, right. Let’s go eat.”

 

We occupy the spaces before each side of the table, Rami sitting to my right and Lucy to my left. “So,” Joe says. “Ben and I’ve been talking.”

 

“Yeah?” Rami says. “What did he tell you? I’m really curious.”

 

“Is it alright with you if I tell them?” Joe asks me. It’s actually nice to know he’d be gracious enough to ask my permission first. I make a vague gesture that Joe interprets correctly. I mean to say ‘go ahead’.

 

“Apparently, Ben here was a Scientist during his time in the Citadel. He was raised by Guardians 12 and 14 and attended classes at the Academy starting from the age of 2. Fortunately, after ingesting one scientific experiment gone wrong, his microchip was destroyed. Then he came to us.”

 

Lucy seems particularly worried. “He ingested _what_? I have to get him checked!” She turns to me in a flash. “No objections. You’re getting checked, even if you feel alright.”

 

“After breakfast, Lucy. Let the man eat first,” Rami chides gently. That seems to calm Lucy at least a bit, and she sits back down relaxedly.

 

Joe and I then eat breakfast in complete silence until someone cries out “all Leaders gather round! Repeat, all Leaders gather round! A Meeting has been called!”

 

Joe perks up at that and so do Rami and Lucy.

 

“We gotta go home,” Rami says. Joe nods, and he takes one final sip of his coffee before he bids them goodbye.

 

Once the couple has exited, Joe turns to me saying “stay here. I won’t be gone for long.”

 

I nod my acquiescence, and Joe leaves. I don’t stay long, however. They may be plotting an Abduction, and it’s my duty to report this to the Head Sentinel. I follow Joe, hiding and sneaking in the shadows, until I find him and the other Leaders gathered in the City Square.

 

It’s showtime.


	3. First Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben reports to the Head Sentinel for the first time. After that, Joe shows Ben the rest of the City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, guys! Things have been rough lately, but I found some time to write. Hence, this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading!

As I hide in a nearby alleyway, the Leaders convene in the City Square. Joe stands amongst them, shaking hands with various members of this Society; fellow Leaders who’ve obviously been in their seats of power long before him.

 

“Good news or bad news first?” one of the Leaders asks. When I peek, I see it’s Diana speaking, her flowing blonde-white hair now tied up in a neat bun. She is standing on a large, wooden stage. Her once ragged dress is now replaced with a new, white one.

 

I then realise it’s one of the dresses the Females wear in the Citadel.

 

“Good news!” cries one of the Leaders. There is a murmur of agreement amongst the crowd, and I see Joe nodding his head. He seems a bit uncertain and silent (very uncharacteristic of him), fidgeting where he stands, and I come to believe that perhaps this is his first time to be part of a Meeting. How new of a Leader is he?

 

“Then, listen! A new Leader has risen amongst us, and just like his father his name is Joseph. We know him personally as Joe, and he now possesses the title of ‘Love’. When he is more experienced, he’ll take my place as Grand Leader, but for now let us welcome him in our ranks. Love, if you will step forward.”

 

The other Leaders move aside as Joe walks past them, eyes on his mother. She smiles fondly at him, and both her arms are open. Joe walks into her embrace, and the other Leaders clap their hands, some hooting.

 

“Welcome, Joe!” one man cries.

 

“Nice to have you!” a woman exclaims.

 

“I’m proud of you, son,” Diana says. She pulls away and pats Joe on the back once. “You may go back down.”

 

Once Joe goes back down and proceeds to the back of the somewhat small crowd, an elderly man with a raspy voice asks “what’s the bad news?”

 

The crowd murmurs in a agreement again. “Yeah, what’s the bad news?” a younger woman asks.

 

Diana sighs. “As some of you may have already heard, Devotion has been captured and executed. He was executed just yesterday,” she says, sorrow cracking her voice. There is then a shared gasp amongst the Leaders, and the youngest of them all asks “your Joseph?”

 

Diana nods solemnly. “Yes. My Joseph,” she says. “If we can all pause for a while in his memory, it would be very much appreciated.”

 

They are all silent for a span of moments.

 

“What are you going to do about it?” Joe asks, finally speaking up. There is a rage hidden in his tone, and it appears he can grow angry as well. For such a gleeful person, he can apparently be very vengeful. One of the men in the crowd places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but he doesn’t turn to look. He merely stares ahead, waiting for his answer.

 

“In his honour and by tradition, I will be the one to host the next Abduction. I will make sure revenge is achieved, and I will not rest until that happens. Who volunteers to take charge while I’m gone?”

 

All of the Leaders - including Joe - raise their hands. Diana looks at Joe fondly, but she raises a hand; signalling him ‘not yet’. Joe then nods in understanding and puts down his hand gingerly.

 

“I have decided,” Diana says. The Leaders watch her, rapt, as they put down their hands. “Conscience will be the one to watch over our people whilst I am away. Conscience, please come to the stage, if you will.”

 

A woman who looks just about Diana’s age steps forward and climbs up the stage as the rest of the Leaders applaud. Diana whispers into her ear and although I find it probably important, I shrug the matter aside. What I cannot hear is a matter I shouldn’t dwell on for long.

 

“Call the Abductors,” Diana orders, and the Leaders disperse, Joe following an elder man to who-knows-where. If they are to convene here in the City Square, that will be much more convenient for me. Diana is making idle talk with Conscience (I don’t know her real name), both individuals still standing on the stage, as I ready my transmitter. I will not be able to record the Abductors’ plan for they are too far from the transmitter, and their voices will doubtlessly be unheard due to the distance between where I stand and where they might meet.

 

This will be my first report. Through this opportunity which I will unmistakenly take, I will prove myself not only to the Head Sentinel, but also to the Sovranty. I will prove my loyalty and efficiency as a Resident and as a Sentinel, and I will protect the Community from whatever dangers these Outsiders pose. There will not be a Sentinel out here for how many years, but I will do my very best to remain here, always listening, always watching, for as long as I live.

 

I fidget with the transmitter and press a button. The red bulb flashes brightly, and a hologram appears before me, showing me an empty room which belongs to the Head Sentinel. He is no doubt in the middle of a Training and will be unable to answer my call, but I’m not expecting an answer. This is merely a test to see whether this transmitter truly works.

 

And it does.

 

I wait in the alleyway, my attention focused on all the pathways leading to the City Square, watching for any Leader that steps closer. For some reason, as I watch, my thoughts linger on Joe. If he‘s to become Grand Leader of this place, then he will be burdened with these responsibilities. After Diana who, if I recall what O436 said correctly, is also named Joy is gone, he will take her place.

 

Would he be offered leniency, if he were caught?

 

It would be such a waste. This man, strange as he may be, is perfect for Residency. He seems to be diligent and loyal. He may as well turn out to be efficient even when put under pressure. To see such a man go in a flash... it’s not a desirable image to imagine.

 

Anyway.

 

After a while, the Leaders - Joe included - return, a small group of people; an elder, adolescents and adults following them.

 

The Abductors.

 

I see no familiar face amongst that crowd, and I assume that perhaps their set of Abductors changes every time. They’re all dressed in white, and they’re undoubtedly ready to perform their duty. They gather before Diana who climbs down the stage, Conscience following her, and wait for her command.

 

Diana turns to Conscience and says “you may go back to your home now. When I’m gone, that’s when your duty starts.”

 

“Yes, madam,” Conscience says, then she proceeds to one of the pathways leading to the Square and leaves.

 

“Alright,” Diana says. She pulls out a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and unfolds it, revealing a picture familiar but unidentifiable. I may have sharp eyes, but it would take me a miracle to actually be able to see it. So far, all I can see are a bunch of boxes clustered together, said boxes varying in size -

 

It’s a map of the Citadel.

 

The Citadel, though moderate in size, can be a very confusing place to be in especially if you’ve recently acquired your own Residence. Every Residence has a copy of such a map, and although I have always considered it helpful in times past, I see now the disadvantages.

 

Diana goes down from the stage, and the small group (they’re only 5 in number) of Abductors surround her, eager to know their plan exactly. Diana then asks two of the Abductors to hold the map’s sides for her.

 

That’s when she begins.

 

“The Builders always open the gates at 8 o’clock in the morning to add to the waste outside their Citadel. While they’re away, we’ll slip in and dissemble and head to different Residencies. So far, this is the arrangement. Chris, Hannah, you’ll be a Couple. If asked, then you’re a Manufacturer and Builder respectively. Stay in Residence number 24. Milo, you’ll be staying in Residece number 91. You’re a Matchmaker. Clara, Geronimo, you’ll be another Couple. Deliverer and Agriculturist, Residence number 56. I’ll be staying in Residence number 39. Did you all understand?”

 

There’s a shared nod amongst that small group, and Diana continues. “Good. Target for now would be a Scientist; Number 45. We’ll meet in Residence number 39 three days after we’ve gotten through the barrier. I know this will be your first time in there, but we’ll make sure it’ll be your last. And it’s not because you’re going to die but because you’ll make it out with our target in our grasp. Just place your trust in me.”

 

The Abductors are wracked with nerves (I can tell. They’re visibly shaking as Diana speaks), and they should be. Little do they know they’ll be thwarted; I’ll make sure that happens. They won’t know about me; they won’t know about anything at all, but that’s just how it is.

 

“And if the barriers don’t open the day we arrive? What next?” asks one of the adolescents; a female with a soft voice.

 

“Then we camp near the walls of the Citadel until they open,” Diana says firmly.

 

“And you’re not even sure we can get out,” one of the adults say. Male, with a fairly feminine voice for one.

 

“Even if I lie saying I’m sure of this, you won’t believe me, so I’ll be frank with all of you. Nothing about this plan is a certainty, and only heaven knows whether we’ll all escape together or if we’ll be successful at all - “

 

“Then what’s the point of all this? What even is this, actually? A sacrifice? For what, the sake of vengeance? You would really endanger six lives for the loss of one?” the man challenges further. He’s wise, this guy. He’s asking exactly the same questions as I am.

 

It takes only one man to get the others to agree. They’re finally thinking. They bombard Diana with questions.

 

Why do this, then?

 

Should we even take part in this?

 

What if I don’t want to do this?

 

“No. Enough,” Diana says, raising a hand. “This is not for my husband’s sake. This is for all our sakes and of the ones in the Citadel.”

 

“Why should they matter?” asks the other adolescent. His lips curl downwards in what seems to be a scowl, and he’s obviously doing that in distaste. Their hate towards us and the Sovranty is fallacious. They’re the ones who are immoral. They’re the ones who deserve to be punished. They are the ones who don’t matter. We are but a peaceful group of people never torn about by conflict like savages. We’re simple souls who live life simply for the sake of the entire Community.

 

Why should they matter?

 

“They matter because they’re innocent people part of a greater scheme they have no idea about!” Diana sighs and rubs a hand on her face. Calming herself down, she takes in deep breaths and closes her eyes, maybe counting from one to ten. “Look. I don’t know exactly what that ‘scheme’ is, but maybe this Target will be able to tell us. I know the Serum’s still being developed, and maybe if we inject it into them, they might die, but it’s all worth a shot, isn’t it? We’re doing this for our people’s safety. We’re doing this for everyone’s safety. We’re doing this for everyone’s freedom. This is not about me. This is not about Joseph. This is about everyone else, so if you don’t want to do it then, by all means, find someone willing! But if you do want to help your fellowmen, then hop to it. I’m just a host; I don’t have power over any of you. But let the future of your families, your friends and everyone else guide you in making the right decision.”

 

The Abductors are shocked into silence as Diana sighs. She must have her way with words, for when she asks the predictable ‘who’s with me’, everyone in that tiny club raises their hands more than willingly. They apologise for their transgressions as well. Go figure.

 

“Thank you,” Diana breathes. “I’ll leave you all to your own devices. We leave tomorrow. Meet me here at nine tomorrow.”

 

My transmitter buzzes in my pocket, and I take it out, pushing the small button. Immediately comes the image of the Head Sentinel, and I salute (as is customary). He looks at me almost expectantly.

 

“Well, 39?” he asks. “Have you any news?”

 

“Yes, sir,” I reply quickly. “A Leader and an Abductor Group of five people; two adolescents, two adults and one elder have just gathered in the City Square, discussing their plans for the next Abduction. I have collected all necessary information and am ready to share everything with you.”

 

Head Sentinel 74 raises a thick eyebrow. “Get to it,” he commands.

 

I must finish my report before Joe returns to that wreck of a home. I don’t quite know my way around this place; and I’ll need to follow him back in the shadows. It’s quite fortunate these people would waste their time over idle talk, laughing at awful jokes shared by one another, or I wouldn’t have been successful at all.

 

“The day and time the Abductors and their Leader will arrive at the Citadel’sbarriers are indeterminable, but they are certainly leaving tomorrow. When do the Builders next jettison the scraps from the Citadel?”

 

Head Sentinel 74 glances to the side. Reflected in his eyes is a sheet of paper with numbers and days printed out on it. It’s a Tuesday today.

 

“This Friday and, as always, at 8 o’clock sharp in the morning. Next schedule would be Tuesday next week, same time. Do you have any idea who the next host is?”

 

“It’s Joy, O436’s wife.”

 

“They’re coming here for vengeance. No matter. They won’t be having it.”

 

“What’s gonna happen? Best warn the Builders; tell them they can’t jettison the scraps on those days,” I say.

 

Head Sentinel 74 sighs. “Sentinel 39, you were never quite the strategist. We cannot stop the Builders from performing their duties; the Citadel doesn’t sponsor idleness. What we can do, however, is trap the Abductors inside and take care of matters within. You’ll find that to be a more efficient way to take care of the pest problem, don’t you think?”

 

Thinking about it, it does sound more operative. “The Abductors will be staying in Residences 24, 91, 56 and 39. Better keep an eye out.”

 

“Target?”

 

“Number 45. Scientist?”

 

“Indeed.” He hums.

 

An idea comes to mind. “Why not place Sentinels at the barriers? They could end the threat of an Abduction taking place.”

 

“And cause suspicion that there are things yet amiss in the Citadel? The Sovranty will punish all of us for that. We could be excommunicated, or worse, hunted down and killed.”

 

“If the people are already conscious of Abductions happening, I don’t see what’s wrong with putting a fair few Sentinels at the entrances.”

 

“We, as Sentinels, are supposed to be the Sovranty’s message to the Outsiders that they can’t harm their people. The Outsiders just don’t seem to get that message. But the people don’t really know that, do they? All they must know is to be conscious of their work and be done with it. They shouldn’t care about these things, and our job is to make sure they don’t. Now, if they start to suspect things are wrong, then we’re not doing our job correctly. We can’t just do the easiest thing.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Information check.” At that, Head Sentinel 74 brings out a voice recorder. He pushes another button, and a light flashes, signalling to him that it’s on and recording. “A group of six Abductors will be entering the Citadel sometime soon. Three adults, two adolescents and one elder. The adults are?”

 

“Two females, one male. Adolescents, one male and one female. Elder, one male.”

 

“Okay. Moving on. They’ll be entering the Citadel either on a Tuesday or Friday at 8 o’clock in the morning while the Builders are jettisoning the scraps and their Target is a Scientist Assigned the Number 45. They’ll be staying in Residences 24, 91, 56 and 39. Host for this Abduction is O436’s wife, soon to be Assigned the Number O437. Leaving the City tomorrow. Anything else?”

 

“The people staying at Residence 24 are male and female, Manufacturer and Builder respectively. They were given false Job Assignments, but that could be used to our advantage. The person staying in Residence 91 is a Matchmaker. The man and woman staying in Residence 56 are an Agriculturist and Deliverer respectively. The Leader will be staying in my old Residence. Job Assignment unknown. Report done, sir.”

 

From the corner of my eye, I see Joe shaking hands with an elder man, still smiling. Then, he pats the hand he’s shaking with his free one and lets go, beginning to leave. I must hurry this report.

 

“Recorded. I will inform the Inners about this.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“Until next time, Sentinel 39.”

 

After I salute, I follow Joe, feeling not even a hint of pride nor joy over my accomplishment.

 

***

 

“Ben? You here?” Joe calls out to the empty room downstairs. I’ve climbed up the building and went into the second floor (the bathrooms). I’m now going down the stairs, pretending as if I’ve just went to the loo.

 

“Yeah, sure am,” I reply as I push open the rusty doors.

 

“Sorry for leaving you here. I’m guessing you would’ve wanted to explore the City a bit, huh?”

 

Data. That’s what it’ll give me. Data to use against these roaches.

 

“Yeah... would’ve liked to,” I reply, sounding disgruntled. Joe winces at my ‘expression’, and that’s how I know I’m still doing a good job.

 

“Again, I’m sorry,” Joe says, giving himself no excuse. “Let me make it up to you?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

 

Stretching, I answer “sure, why not?”

 

Joe’s smile reappears on his lips, and he tells me to follow him as he pushes open the main doors. The bright sun is shining from above as I step out, and I have to admit it’s quite refreshing. Much better than sneaking around in dark alleyways. No trouble; once I know the layout of this city, I’ll be able to roam around and have the sun shine down on me more.

 

“Now isn’t this the life?” Joe asks. I nod my head, agreeing. “Now, it’s time for Tour Guide Joe to make his appearance.”

 

Before I could ask him what exactly he’s talking about, he starts dancing. It’s not some sort of awkward swing of the arms nor the strange jigs I was practically forced to learn during Training, but a decent one that impresses me.

 

After a successful twirl, he says “Tour Guide Joe, at your service.” He pats my back once, and I don’t quite know how to react.

 

I opt for embarrassment, burying my face in my hands.

 

Joe laughs. “Nah, not gonna do that to ya, buddy. Anyway, let’s tour this place?”

 

“Just lead the way, Joe.”

 

We start walking.

 

It’s riveting, how Joe could describe each place we pass through with such detail and passion, as if he lives his life for the sake of these places. He may not know the history of said buildings, but they’ve existed for hundreds of years now, and such information would no doubt already be lost.

 

We pass by a red building, looking almost unscathed. The windows are gone; not even their shattered remains present, and Joe says “that’s the school where children go learn. We’ve been able to acquire some history books from some libraries that haven’t been burnt down, and although those books are a bit damaged, they’re still quite decent.”

 

“What do the children learn here?” I ask, curious to find out whether their curriculum is different from ours. I mean, there’s no doubt that it would be, but perhaps their subjects are the same?

 

“History, Mathematics, Language and Sciences are the main subjects. There are, however, clubs the children attend every Friday. There, they can learn Music, Sports, Culinary, Arts and Homemaking. They attain their own hobbies.” He points to a line of other buildings just right after where the school’s located. “Those are where the clubs take place. Remember the order I mentioned the clubs in? They’re arranged that way. Moving on!”

 

After passing a few buildings where people are performing their business, whether it may be the selling of items or the tending of homes, Joe finally makes yet another special remark. We stop in front of a vined building, the brick kept intact even after so many years.

 

“This is the library,” Joe says. “Wanna take a look inside?”

 

“Dunno, man,” I say, wishing to explore the city even further. Much better to acquire more information about the place than spend more time in a particular one.

 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We can return next time,” Joe says. “Let’s go?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay, then. As we move, I’ll tell you about the library. You don’t have a building like that in the Citadel, do you?”

 

“No,” I say, recalling no such place. Why would we need a library? What is a library?

 

Joe clicks his tongue in what I perceive to be disapproval. “That’s such a waste. Anyway, a library is a place where people get to retrieve information from sources such as books, encyclopaedias and much more. This is also a recreational area where people may read fiction. You know what that means, right?”

 

“Yeah, no need to explain,” I say, smiling. Something in Joe’s eyes softens at the sight of my smile, and he returns it almost automatically. It makes me wonder, but I know I shouldn’t pay any mind to it at all. Outsiders and their emotions.

 

We walk on until we see a giant wooden stage in the middle of an open area.

 

“This is the theatre,” Joe says. “I know, I know, it looks like nothing special... but it really is a cherished place in our hearts. Especially Rami’s, Lucy’s and soon to be mine. This is where our actors and actresses perform our plays. Movies are long gone, but at least we got this.”

 

“I’d really like to see one sometime,” I say. “A play, I mean. You really seem to be fond of them.”

 

In truth, I am curious. I don’t honestly know if this still has something to do with my mission, but I don’t think on it. Data’s still data.

 

“And you’ll see one soon! Rami’s cooking up something, and whatever it is... I’m sure it’ll taste good. And I think Lucy will be in action, too! You’ll finally be able to see her prowess. I’ll talk to Rami about the arrangements later when we’re done with the tour. We’ve still got places to go,” Joe replies, then we head west.

 

***

 

By the end of the day, I’ve collected data about what I assume is most of the City. We’ve passed their hospital, their City Square and much more places, and if I weren’t so fit in the first place, my whole body would’ve been aching by now.

 

I hear a growl coming from Joe’s direction. The man places his hand on his stomach and rubs it gently, as if placating it. “Jeez. Ben, I’m hungry. Would you like to go eat now?”

 

I feel a familiar pang at my stomach, and I nod. “Where do you have in mind?”

 

“I’d say home, but I think I’m too hungry to actually cook anything.” He looks at me with eyes twinkling with hunger. His mouth is shaped in a small ‘o’, and I get the feeling he’s come up with an idea... which could be a bad one. What do these people eat? What could he possibly be thinking about?

 

“Say, let’s go to Ravioli’s.”

 

“Ravi-wha?” I ask. Did I hear that right? Ravioli? Who or what is this Ravioli?

 

“Ravioli’s!” Joe exclaims, as if by doing so I’d realise what the heck he’s talking about. I stare at him, merely wishing to tell him it’s still not working, and Joe puts his hands on his hip, sighing. “Oh yeah... you wouldn’t know about that, would you?” he mutters. With mock-nonchalance he says “it’s only the best restaurant in town. The chefs there serve all sorts of food; pizza, salad, soup, you name it.”

 

“Did we pass it by?” I ask. Joe didn’t give any description of this ‘Ravioli’s’ or ‘restaurant’ whatsoever when we were still touring the city. We’re now at the City Square, deserted as it seems now, and the streetlights are on. The tour has only shown me how the Outsiders are benefitting from our scraps, and if there was something I could do about it, I would find a way to jettison them somewhere else. Underground, maybe.

 

“Nah, we didn’t. It’s near home. Come on, man. Yours truly’s suffering here.” He pretends to go weak in the knees, contorting his face in mock-agony.

 

Melodramatic, this man is.

 

A shrug. “Sure.”

 

“Excellent,” Joe says, then he starts running; quite unexpectedly. It’s surprising how quick of a pace he could set in a matter of seconds, and I almost find myself lagging behind.

 

But not quite. Not today.

 

In truth, the City Square’s not that far from the restaurant Joe’s been mentioning. It’s just a matter of minutes before we arrive at the destination; a small structure just the size of a normal, two-floored Residence. Moss grows at the sides of the edifice, making the entire building look green. Atop the building is a light-up sign comprised of mix-matched letters obviously made in the Citadel. ‘Ravioli’s’ it says.

 

Joe raises a hand as he captures his breath, huffing just as much as I am. Joe’s breaths are erratic, and there’s something similar to a wheezing sounding in the open space.

 

Joe’s laughing.

 

“Well, wasn’t that a ride?” he asks, still laughing albeit much easier now. “Sorry for going that fast on an empty stomach.”

 

“It’s fine,” I puff. How can Joe recover so fast? “Are we gonna go in or what?”

 

Joe’s breathing finally returns to normal when he says “I’m not going inside while you’re still panting like you’ve been placed in a heated oven with the door left closed.” He pulls a sheet of cloth from his shirt pocket. “Here, use this. You’re sweating like mad.”

 

“Thanks,” I say, getting the cloth and using it to wipe the sweat racing down my forehead and cheeks. A moment passes, then I’m alright. Joe extends his hand towards me, silently asking for the cloth. “You sure you still want this back?” I ask.

 

“Come on, Ben. As if I don’t sweat, myself. I can wash it when we get back home, anyway,” Joe replies. I give him the cloth (although it’s not really drenched in sweat, it’s still wet), not repulsed in the slightest. Everything’s just... blank, if you want to know.

 

“We going in?”

 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

 

I follow Joe as he opens the door to the restaurant.

 

“Welcome!” a man greets with much enthusiasm, as if it’s his first time greeting someone. He adjusts his glasses, pushing it further up the bridge of his nose. “Ah, Joe! Nice to see you again! And you’ve brought someone?”

 

“Hello, Rav,” Joe says. He’s grinning; I could tell. “And no, it’s not like that at all.”

 

Before I could think of anything, Joe says “Anyway, Ben, meet Ravioli; owner of the most successful restaurant around and dear friend of mine. Ravioli, this is Ben. He’s new around here.”

 

Ravioli shakes my hand with a grip so strong I almost pull my hand away.

 

“Welcome to the City, Ben,” Ravioli says brightly, the hand that once clutched mine like a vise returning to his side. I flex my fingers, the crackling of bone gone almost unheard when Ravioli says “table two, then I get your orders. Follow.”

 

We are led to a table with red cloth placed atop the wood. Two plates rest on the table along with complete sets of utensils, and Ravioli pulls the chairs away from the table, allowing us to sit down and adjust the seats ourselves.

 

“Menu?” Ravioli asks.

 

Joe raises a hand, “not for me, Rav. Ben here might need one though.”

 

I’m assuming Joe’s been here enough times to already have memorised the entire menu. Either that, or he just knows what he wants. A menu is placed in front of me, and I glance at the sheet of paper. The words are handwritten, but they’re written in an elegant print.

 

None of the foods seem familiar to me, and I’m wary of what they eat out here, suspecting they may try to find a way to poison me, so I consult Joe.

 

“What do you suggest?” I ask him.

 

Joe gives me a patient smile and says to Ravioli “we’ll be having a New York Cheese Pizza. Make that a Large.”

 

Ravioli scrawls on a sheet of paper before collecting the menu from me. “One large New York Cheese Pizza. Is that correct?”

 

Joe nods.

 

“Any drinks?”

 

“Nah, just water’ll do.”

 

Ravioli nods and walks away, leaving us. For being ‘the best restaurant in town’, the place is awfully empty. I make a remark about that.

 

“Well, this place isn’t the most famous, but it’s got the best food. You got the most amiable chef here, and I get food for free! You gotta love the free stuff.”

 

I feign amusement which I presume would be the appropriate expression to ape.

 

“His name’s not really Ravioli, isn’t it?” I ask. I may not be an expert on Outsider names, but I do suspect something... off about Ravioli’s name.

 

Joe confirms my suspicions. “It’s not,” he says, sniffing. “It’s actually Raphael Victor. Ravioli’s just a nickname.”

 

“Why use that name, though? Does the word have an origin or whatever?”

 

“Yeah. I don’t exactly know the etymology of the word, but I do know it was a food quite popular during the time of Old Earth.” He sighs. “He must’ve thought it appropriate.”

 

Joe is suddenly sullen. I let a moment pass before saying “hey, you alright?”

 

My voice is dripping with concern, and I’m beginning to wonder if it was a dose of too much when the bottom lids of Joe’s eyes twitch upward once. Does he suspect something? It’s a fleeting moment, but an important one nonetheless.

 

“Yeah. It’s just... something I don’t think I wanna talk about here.”

 

Hmm. Must be something serious.

 

“But you‘ll tell me?” I ask, eager to know. If it’s serious indeed (Joe doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for jokes at the moment), then maybe I could glean information from him. Emotions make you weak, make you careless... and I’m more than willing to read between the lines of whatever Joe could possibly say.

 

A sad smile shapes Joe’s lips as he says “yeah. But tomorrow.”

 

“Okay.”

 

There is silence now, and it drags on until Ravioli returns to our table with a strange looking stand and a plate with a circular, yellow-and-red... thing. It’s steaming.

 

“Joe, what’s that?”

 

Joe replies “only the best thing you’ll ever taste in your entire life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions about the AU? Notice any errors? Please feel free to tell me! I’ll do my best to accommodate you.


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